Last Reflection
by lulatron
Summary: Scott/Allison angst. Post season two. His eyes looked at her but did not venture in, as if she was a mystery that beared no solving. "I'm sorry." She didn't say it to him, but at herself and to the boy buried in the ground.


My first ever posted fic so be nice. Not afraid of constructive criticism.

This happens several years in the future, they are talking about things that happened some months after season two.

Last Reflection

When he sees her waiting near his apartment, his shoulders visibly draw in. The contours of his broad and invulnerable body hinted at a tension appearing around his middle. She knew that he had been warned, had smelled her presence there since at least a minute away - it was the sight of her that made him clench up.

"What are you doing here?" His question was genuine. He could not guess why she had called. Guessing why she came would require thinking as she did, remembering how she worked, walking in the footsteps of a murderess. He preferred to be blind. His eyes looked at her but did not venture in, as if she was a mystery that beared no solving.

She ached to run from this, could not be here. Any second was a second before she would force herself to go. Until that moment she tried take in every expression, every bit of information offered to her by his sparse activity.

"What are you doing here, Allison?" The tone wasn't one he had directed at a friend in his life, but she was distracted enough for it not to make her draw back. _Ten__, __nine__..._

"I'm..." She needed to collect herself before saying this, so the words would include as much of their meaning as she could possibly fit into them_. _She looked away from his well needed gaze at the cracked sidewalk. _Eight__. _"I'm sorry." She didn't say it to him, but at herself and to the boy buried in the ground. She swallowed, not looking up.

Scott took several steps forward, until his face was under the building's lamp. Only the upwards facing parts of his face were lit, his cheeks and mouth left in the shadows cast by them. _Seven__. _He watched her from a safe distance, clearly to make sure there was no misunderstanding. So she would remember she had not half a chance with him after she had killed a member of his pack. Allison could not think of anything to say except that she spent every day remembering the future that would not be.

"Why did you do it?" he surprised her, and the fact he took an interest in her made her so happy she felt the time going by like it was physically touching her, shouldering her stomach as it ran by. _Six__, __five__. _

"I don't know," she held out. Telling him the truth would hurt him more than anything she had already done.

"You're lying," his body trembled and he seemed seconds away from venturing in, looking into her mind into the way he used to be so good at. Seconds from finding what he was searching for. _Four__. _ She didn't want him getting close, not right now.

"The family did not trust me. They would not let me take the position I was made for. If I handled the situation on my own we would return to the fold."

"If you killed a werewolf?"

"He was dangerous," she replied. "He was a killer."

He shifted back as if she had hit him. She did not know if he felt shame that one of his own had killed, or if he was hurt by the very accusation. "That's not true. He would have gained control. We didn't kill Jackson."

"But I should've. That's me. I needed you to understand," this admission she let out carefully, without mumbling, but as fast as she could; "I thought if he died you would realize that I'm dangerous for you and let me do what I was made for."

"You killed Isaac because of me." He was stating a fact, and she could see him accepting the story. His eyes seemed to draw into themselves under his dark brows.

"He's dead because of you, technically, is what you want to say?" She guessed at his blame landing in the wrong place, like it always would. He didn't react. She walked toward him until he was only one quiet step away from her. "It's not true. Only you could see it that way" _Three__. _She really should leave before worse damage was done. "I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't know might happen to you."

He looked at her and saw her killing Isaac from a safe distance, in the most humane way possible. He saw her planning with her father and staying home during the evenings. He saw her fighting with her mother and their last conversation. He saw her before she met him, when she was still alone with her parents. He saw every gymnastics coach who praised her and all the ones who stared at her, perplexed by a curious desire to excel that wasn't fueled by competition. He saw her leaving schools, often several months before the year was over, turning up in a new classroom in May or April with a bright attitude and tightly braided hair. He saw Christmas in the dark with her aunt visiting and lavishly decorating the tree and Allison. He looked as if it could almost stay that way, him seeing her and believing it was all too complicated to judge.

She saw him walk away from her and from his own apartment, leaving to spend the night at Stiles', or to wait out a few more hours in a bar until she had faded away like a bad memory. _Two__, __one__, __zero__._


End file.
